Broken Eagle
by nonowriting
Summary: Altair would do anything to be forgiven, and Malik doesn't realize it yet. slash, oneshot, altmal


Broken Eagle

"Safety and peace, brother"

"Your presence deprives me of both, Altair." Came the biting words to his dull greeting. Although the words were expected they still managed to wound him once again. Despite this, he said nothing and merely placed the bloodstained feather on Malik's desk.

"Robert is dead." Were his only words, flat and unemotional.

"So I see." Malik's one hand swept up the feather and put it away. When Altair failed to move from his desk, Malik's sharp tongue came into play again.

"Expecting me to congratulate you, Novice? If so, then you will be waiting for a long time. You have done nothing worth congratulating."

Altair stayed silent for a second, looking as though he was working up the courage to say something. When he finally did speak, the words were hesitant and filled with pain.

"I... I'm sorry." Malik stayed silent, his face frozen. "For your arm... and Kadar. I'm sorry." Malik slowly morphed into a rage filled demon as the words sunk in, his face twisting in fury.

"You... You dare! You dare say those words to me! After all you've done!" Malik said as he made his way across the counter. Altair said nothing, but his face said it all. He was sorry, sorry for the pain he inflicted on Malik, sorry for the death of Kadar, sorry for still being alive when Kadar was not. But Malik was far too enraged to see this, and so lashed out at him, grabbing his collar as shaking him. "What more pain must you inflict upon me before you are satisfied, Altair!" Altair flinched, and Malik was forced to let go of his collar as he knelt before him, head bowed and eyes bright with tears.

"I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry Malik." He said again, only prompting more rage from Malik. He kicked him hard in the solar plexus and heard him gasp, more an exhalation than a sound of pain.

"What do you want from me Altair! There is no way that an arrogant, pathetic novice like you would apologize unless there is something you want! If you want my forgiveness you will not have it! Not now, not ever!" Malik screamed, noticing with dark satisfaction Altair's flinch.

"Is there truly nothing I can do to earn your forgiveness?" Altair raised his head as he said this, looking at Malik without any masks, all the pain and sorrow and self-loathing he had been feeling bared and free for Malik to see.

"You can climb one of those towers and you can jump off them to your death, thats what you can do!" Malik yelled. Altair flinched again, and asked in a trembling voice, "Is that truly... what you want?"

"Nothing would please me more!" came the cold response, said from over Malik's shoulder as he walked back to the counter. Altair slowly stood up, looked at Malik and said in a dull voice, "As you wish." He turned to leave and paused at the doorway. Hesitating for only a second, he said his final words to the man he had wronged.

"Goodbye, Malik."

"Good Riddance."

It was only a few hours later that Malik calmed down enough to think upon what he had said. At first, he didn't think Altair would go through with it. He thought Altair would understand those words were said only in the heat of the moment, not meant to be taken seriously. But as he thought back on it, he realized that Altair was not kidding when he said he would do as he wished. There was weariness to his eyes, a weariness that Malik had seen before, and once in himself. It was a weariness that comes from giving up on life. And it was that weariness that told Malik that he should so after Altair and stop him if he ever wanted to see the assassin again.

It was in Masayf the next time they met. Altair had snuck his way through the brainwashed people and killed Al Mualim, killed the man who had saved him from a life as an orphan, killed the man he looked up to as a father. He killed Al Mualim, and now he stood at the top of the tower and knew that he would see him again soon. This was the same tower he took his first leap of faith from, and he looked down and almost saw the hay bale he had landed in, but that hay bale was gone now, only rocks would meet his body at the bottom.

Taking out the letter he had written, he placed it behind him with the small bag that held the apple. In it was his last wish- that Malik knew why he had done this, that he loved Malik enough to make that leap of faith for him, and that he wished the apple be in his capable hand, along with the warning of what the apple was. It was with this letter that he said goodbye to the world, and turned to join Kadar and Al Mualim.

"Stop!"

Altair stopped immediately, so close to the edge that if the call had been a second late he would have already been airborn. Altair stayed in that position, hope and disappointment wrestling within him. Disappointment because by now he really wanted to leap, to leave this world and join Al Mualim in hell, to be punished for the sins he had committed- a list so long that an eternity in hell would not seem enough. Or maybe to heaven, although Altair really didn't think he'd make it in. Or maybe to just a cool nothingness, nothing awaiting him, no punishment or pleasure or even thought.

But he also felt hope. Hope, because he knew that voice keeping him from jumping. Slowly turning, he saw Malik once again. He was sweaty and looked exhausted, like he had ridden straight here from Jerusalem. His face held stark relief as he spoke his next words, like he was coaxing a wild animal into calm. "Altair, come back. Step away from the edge, Altair. Come back to me."

Jerkily, Altair stepped forward, walking towards the one armed man who rushed forward to meet him. Ignoring the flinch he made, he pulled him into a one armed hug, wrapping his arm around his back. Altair's shoulder quickly became the recipient of mumbled words and drops of salty relief.

"I'm so sorry Altair, I never meant it. You're forgiven, you're forgiven! I'm so sorry Altair. Altair, please, speak to me!" He pulled back to look at the assassin's face that was numb, frozen and wooden.

"Altair, please, listen to me! You're forgiven! I forgive you!" Slowly, with those words, the mask Altair was wearing began to crack. Hope and love and desperation shone out of the previously dull eyes and his mouth slowly moved to speak.

"For... given?"

Malik spoke with the frenzy of a man possessed, "Yes! Yes, Altair, I forgive you! It's forgiven!"

"Forgiven..." Repeated Altair, as the word clicked in his mind and his mask fully broke with an onslaught of tears.

"Forgiven... forgiven..." He repeated as Malik pulled him into his shoulder, keeping up his litany of words. Altair's hands came up and clutched at his tunic and he began to sob in ernest.

"Thank you... thank you... thank you..." he repeated, sobbing it over and over into Malik's shoulder. They stayed that way for hours, long enough for Altair, tired and bloody from the battle earlier, to fall asleep. As he slept Malik still held him, calming down from the fear of loosing him. Soon enough he was calm and began to look around the room, spying the bag and letter that Altair had left. Slowly reaching out, thanking God it was close enough for him to reach without getting up, he grabbed them, successfully not waking up the assassin sleeping on his lap. Reading the letter that was written by Altair's shaky hand and had been marred by droplets of tears Malik finally got an idea as to why the assassin had done this for him. Softly laughing, he put the letter down. The crazy things love makes us do, he thought. Love was the reason Altair would have died, just as love was the reason that he had said all those horrible things to him. He was angry, with himself and with Altair, because he couldn't stop loving him even after Solomon's Temple, and with Altair for being so prideful. So he lashed out at him and caused him so much pain that suicide was a valid option. Never had Malik been so disgusted with himself. But as he looked down onto the face of a man that he now knows loves him back, he can try and fix what he had done. He had broken the eagles' wings, so it was up to him to mend them.

And in time, that eagle will fly again.


End file.
